


bloodstained

by Nyaruki



Category: Keyakizaka46 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Assassins & Hitmen, F/F, Pre-Apocalypse, Sort Of, Violence, sort of??, techipippi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 22:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13534056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyaruki/pseuds/Nyaruki
Summary: Nobody else understood them, and that was okay.As long as she could keepheralive, it was okay.





	bloodstained

**Author's Note:**

> yeah, i wrote another thing instead of studying. oops.
> 
> this is meant to part of an AU i've been planning out for a while now, so apologies in advance for how cryptic (and possibly confusing) it is. it's... different from my works so far, so if you find it even slightly interesting, any comments would be much appreciated!
> 
> the techipippi in this fic isn't necessarily shippy, but it isn't necessarily _not_ shippy either so it's entirely up to you to interpret their relationship however you'd like.
> 
> inspired by [this photoshoot](https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b04Gxtbd4_g/WAy27_ye8AI/AAAAAAAARcM/_bN38Y_aCUMP718NG_l6qj5LuZe4EpbtgCEw/s1600/1.jpg).

Darkness.

It was pitch black when her eyes snapped awake, but that was in no way an indication what time of the day it was – every single window in this godforsaken building they’d been using as of late had been meticulously nailed shut, not a single crack to provide an entry point for any of the outside world’s various light sources. (Safety measures, she supposed, though that in itself raised the question just what the building had been previously used for if such a thing was deemed necessary.)

Still, she didn’t feel like she had been asleep for any longer than two hours, and while her mind was still disoriented, she was willing to trust her internal body clock. She didn’t feel like she had just woken up on her own, rather, something else forced her wide awake—and the awful feeling pooling in her gut was all the proof she needed.

Something was _off_.

She listened. The team seemed to be asleep, and she couldn’t pick up on anyone else’s breathing aside from the people who were meant to be there. That was good news, as at the very least that meant the building was still a safe place for them to lay low.

It took her weary mind much longer than it would normally take for her to notice that the fifth person’s breathing was missing, and that extra minute proved to be one too late.

A scream from far away cut through the night, barely audible at the distance it came from, the building’s walls solid enough to prevent most noises from getting in.

To her ears, however, it was positively _deafening_.

Realization hit her instantaneously and, with a practiced movement of her hand, she reached out to collect her longbow and the quiver she’d kept lying neatly next to her bed at all times (it was kind of a necessity, really). In a flash, she was already on her feet, flying through the door and down the stairs, nearly slamming into a wall more than once in her rush to get out of there, get to the source, get to _her_ before it was too late.

_She needs me._

It wasn’t the first time this was happening. She’d always hated herself for not being able to prevent it. It was never her responsibility, but she’d sworn, so long ago, that she’d protect _her_ with her life. So she had taken it upon herself to deal with the aftermath. No matter how much _that person_ wanted to convince her to leave _her_ behind, that _she_ was a burden, she just couldn’t severe the bond, didn’t want to do it. Nobody else understood them, and that was okay.

As long as she could keep _her_ alive, it was okay.

The outside world was much brighter than it had any right to be in the dead of night, blinking neon signs illuminating her surroundings more than the thin crescent of a moon overhead. This was the trashiest part of the town, and the air was accordingly nauseating, heavy with smoke and chemicals and god knows what else. She wasn’t entirely sure where she was supposed to be searching, but when the distinct smell of blood wafted over to her with a sudden gust of wind, _that_ was as clear of a lead as she was ever going to get.

Following the trail brought her in front of what looked like a large shed, and she took a moment to steel herself. The doors creaked ominously as she pushed them open, and, almost immediately, an overwhelming stench of blood assaulted her senses. She had to fight back the urge to gag as she finally took a cautious step inside.

The dim light sneaking in from outside was more than enough to clear up the full scene of carnage before her eyes. The blood was _everywhere_ , looking almost black in the darkness, splattered messily across the walls, puddles of it splashing under her feet with almost every step she took. There were at least four corpses on the ground, albeit with several of their body parts scattered around – she nearly tripped over what seemed to be a head.

But there was nothing she could do about the corpses right now. More importantly than that, she had to make sure _she_ was okay. Her gaze finally landed on the silhouette of a girl sitting in the center of the room. Head down, whole body shuddering. That was always the case. The blade of a katana reflected the moonlight conspicuously, lying in a pool of blackness at her feet, and she took a mental note to proceed as carefully as possible. She began approaching slowly, warily, but once she got close enough, her trained eyes didn’t miss how the girl’s fingers twitched closed around the handle of the sword. Within a split second, an audible slash tore upwards at her, almost too fast for her to dodge. Luckily, she just barely managed to jump away on time, though she couldn’t say the same about the left side of her already short hair, strands falling pitifully to the ground. Clearly it was no time to be mourning her loss, however, as the girl attempted to lift herself upright, katana still in her grasp.

She had to put a stop to this. She didn’t want to hurt _her_.

“Wake up!!” She shouted, forcefully but non-threateningly. “ _Techi!!_ ”

The girl froze in her tracks.

“Pi…ppi…?”

 _She_ could recognize her voice. Good.

“Yes, it’s me! It’s Pippi.” She took a tentative step towards the girl, Hirate, _Techi_ , the only person in the world who’d refer to her by that nickname. Once she was certain she wasn’t going to be attacked once more, Shida, no, _Pippi_ dashed up and enveloped her thin body in a hug. She finally heard metal clatter as it collided with the ground – a telltale sign that Techi had most likely dropped her katana. “That’s right, you don’t need that anymore.”

“Pippi…” The girl rasped out as she wrapped her arms around the taller girl in response to the hug, albeit feebly.

“It’s okay. You’re okay now.” Pippi pulled away to observe the damage the younger girl had caused upon herself. She was covered in blood, her black hair appeared nearly dyed red with the amount that was drying between her locks, but little of it seemed to actually belong to her. She could only make out a few cuts here and there, including one bleeding just underneath her eye, but thankfully nothing life-threatening.

She sighed deeply, relieved that Techi was skilled enough of a fighter to have been able to evade death so successfully over the years. The girl was a monster with her katana, Shida knew that better than anyone, but when she’d lose control like this, she had cut it a bit too close to the worst case scenario one too many times. So she wrapped Hirate in another tight hug, the only thing she felt she _could_ do at this point.

Then came the unpleasant part. The bodies. Begrudgingly untangling herself from the girl, she examined the corpses on the ground, though she quickly determined they were all far too sliced up for it to be realistic that any of them were still alive. Thankfully, she didn’t have to deal with sloppy leftovers that night. “Were they _Infected_ , Techi?”

“I don’t remember…”

She believed her. Techi had told her before, how she’d lose most of her memory as soon as she’d start coming back to her senses, and trying to look back on what she’d done felt like being stuck at a purposefully blocked up pathway somewhere in her mind. Straining too hard would only leave her with a splitting headache and no better chance of getting an answer, so by now she knew not to push her too hard.

Still, that was good enough for her. Whether or not these men had been Infected, judging by the neighborhood they were currently located in, they likely weren’t very good people. So it really wasn’t too much of a loss. Her kind killed for a living, and they’d killed much better people than this.

It was then that she noticed she had overlooked one body, unmoving, blending in with the shadows in one corner of the shed. As she inched closer, she could immediately tell this one was female. The corpse was lying on its front, long black hair soaking in the pool of blood that had formed underneath. She warily turned the body to its side with her shoe, taking notice of the deep gash carved into its neck, and her own blood ran cold when she finally caught sight of its face.

It was her former mentor.

_Why was she here?_

She swallowed thickly.

“Did you kill her, too…?”

Hirate stood behind her, silence heavy in the air for a few moments. “I had to.”

“…I see.”

They’d parted ways years ago, yet seeing her dead body like this brought back lingering feelings she didn’t know she had. _The woman_ had been a capable fighter, but far too kind-hearted for this line of work. Perhaps she hadn’t deserved to die like this, but maybe it was better this way, Shida supposed. It had always been a ‘kill or be killed’ world they lived in, and with how crazy things had been getting as of late, it had to be some relief that she’d died by the hand of _one of their own_ rather than just being killed in action, or worse, becoming food for some mindless Infected puppet.

 _You can finally rest now,_ xxxxx _-san._

She offered one last silent goodbye to the woman’s lifeless body before finally turning to face the younger girl. She’d been looking at her, mouth drawn in a thin line, not daring to make a sound. Her eyes were growing hazy, and they both knew she couldn’t remain conscious much longer. Shida smiled weakly at her. In time, she would forgive her. Anything Techi did, she would forgive. For now, she simply had to do her part and protect her.

“Let’s go.”

Some of the anxiety melted away from the girl’s face and she mumbled out a weak ‘ _yeah_ ’ before languidly retrieving her bloodstained katana from where it still rested on the ground.

The night felt colder as they headed back to the dark building they’d made into their temporary home. Shida’s mind felt oddly crisp, and she slipped into silence, thinking. She thought about mundane things—how she’d have to clean Techi’s wounds, and then they’d have to catch up on some much needed sleep, and also about the unfortunate haircut she’d gotten.

Then she thought about more pressing matters. By killing their leader, they’d officially declared war on _their team_.

And she didn’t feel like dying yet.

They obviously needed a strategy, but plotting had never been her strongest suit, so that would have to be a team effort once all of their minds were sufficiently rested. Nevertheless, there _was_ one thing she knew for certain.

First thing in the morning, they’d have to look for a new place.


End file.
